


Sharing The Load

by Im_The_Doctor (Bofur1)



Category: Video Blogging RPF, Youtube RPF
Genre: Affection, Brotherly Love, Coping, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cute Ending, Discovery, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Frustration, Insomnia, Introspection, Late at Night, Laundry, Loneliness, Mid-Canon, Multiple Selves, Mystery, Peace, Platonic Cuddling, Queerplatonic Jackieboy/Schneep, Realization, Sleep Deprivation, Stress, Surprises, Tenderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 07:04:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15504969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofur1/pseuds/Im_The_Doctor
Summary: Whenever sleep eludes him, Schneep finds comfort in what could be considered a strange and unexpected source—not that he plans on telling the others about it.





	Sharing The Load

Schneep wasn’t exactly sure when he had gotten into his little habit, but he knew without a doubt the reason  _why_. Marvin was generally in charge of the laundry; he insisted that the others wouldn’t fold it right. Most of the things he folded were only going to be hung up anyway, but he enjoyed the duty, so they let him have his way with their clothes. Unfortunately Marvin got more easily overheated than the others, so if the excessive heat from their large dryer became too much, Schneep would offer to help him.

He could see why Marvin enjoyed the folding and sorting; it could be done in silence, allowing some time to think, and sorting everything into its proper order was therapeutic in a way. Schneep wasn’t really there for those reasons, though. Call it strange, but he was there for the sensory experience—the comforting warmth, the softness of the fabric and the unique, distinct smells that belonged to no one but them.

His own clothes were washed in an entirely separate load. They were rough and starchy under his hands and smelled like nothing but blood and cleanser. Sometimes when Marvin had his back turned, he would pick up one of the hoodies and bury his nose in it, soaking in its warmth. It was comforting.

Late at night, he would do his best to remember that sensation as he lay motionless in his bed, the sheets wound too tight around his legs, restraining him. Once upon a time, he had barely noticed the discomfort; he had always been wrapped around his wife, his face nuzzled against the back of her neck. Now he was alone, the sheets were cold and he found himself staring miserably up at the ceiling with his arms thrown out on either side to fill the empty space.

Needless to say, there was more to his insomnia than his caffeine addiction. This wasn’t staying up to get work done; this was simply an inability to relax.

His tension started to leak into his work, bringing him to snap at his coworkers and constantly be fiddling with his coat and scrubs. They just felt so confining. It was infuriating! He could barely stand it until the end of the day when he came home and could tear them off for more comfortable clothes, but even those weren’t what he hoped they would be. They were washed with his work clothes. Too much bleach, too much starch, too much stain remover—all of it was just  _too much_.

Today was one of the rarest of days—he had the house to himself. He had called in sick, knowing that his exhaustion and snappiness would do his patients no favors, but all of the others had already made plans or had their own work to attend to. Before he left, Marvin had lightly tousled his hair and advised, “Don’t start filing any paperwork; that’s what your days off always turn into. If you’re tired, get some actual rest!”

Honestly, he had tried. For a change of pace, he lay on the couch, trying to quiet his mind, but even there he turned over more times than he cared to count. Eventually the dryer buzzed, catching his attention, and he huffed an exasperated sigh, throwing the pillow he’d been using in the vague direction of the TV before getting up.

As soon as the dryer swung open, however, he paused, allowing a moment for the heat spill out. It tingled through his nerves, washed through his tense muscles and helped him take a more even breath.

This was meant to be a chore, he reminded himself as he scooped the warm clothing into his arms, holding it close. Why did it calm him so much?

Perhaps it made him feel less alone. As he sat on the couch and draped Marvin’s long cape over his lap to be folded last, he could see all of the stains in the shirts and shorts that would never wash out. They brought back so many memories: the time Jackie had accidentally shattered the jar of tomato sauce by twisting with too much force, spewing red sauce in all directions—the time Marvin had been too tipsy to find his mouth with his shot glass and had poured it down his front, sending everyone laughing—the time Jameson had been attacked with silly string—

There were other stains too, the stains they never spoke of: soot stains, bloodstains, souvenirs from old battles they wanted nothing more than to forget, but they were proof that the group had survived. Biting his lip, Schneep carefully spread one of Chase’s shirts over his knees and then drew them up, resting his head against them. The layered warmth of the cape and the shirt, the smells of cocoa and almond butter enveloped him, settling in with his endless fatigue…

The next thing he knew, he was startling awake as the dryer buzzed a second time, informing him that he had never reset it. Disoriented, he gathered up the cape and the shirt, letting them dangle over his arm as he stumbled blearily off to do so.

When he thought back on it later, it startled him. As far as he could remember, that was the fastest he’d fallen asleep in  _months_ , at least. He hadn’t slept in stops and starts either, as he so often tended to; it was a refreshing change!

Maybe…maybe he could get away with sneaking a shirt or two out of the laundry every so often, so long as he put it back before one of the others noticed.

* * *

Jackieboy just couldn’t understand it and frankly, he wasn’t in any mood for this. Today had been the most exhausting day of crime-fighting that he’d had in a long, long time and as soon as he’d gotten home, all he wanted was to strip away his filthy jumpsuit and change into his off-duty hoodie. It was what he wore almost every night when he wanted to wind down and now, when he needed it most, it disappeared without a trace.

The laundry had a habit of vanishing now. Sometimes he would see Chase wandering around without a shirt, helplessly throwing up his hands and exclaiming, “I didn’t do anything with it! It’s not like it just hopped up and walked away! Psh, it’s not like  _Chad_  took it!” Not long afterward, however, he would find it hanging over one of the dining room chairs or even back in the dryer—someplace he  _swore_  he had already searched.

The same went for Marvin’s second cape. All too clearly Jackie remembered the panicked magician tearing through the load of laundry, late for a show, hollering that his other one was still smoke-stained from his last performance and he needed his missing spare.

“Is this it?” Henrik proffered, nudging the heap of black fabric where it miraculously lay at his feet.

Laundry had gotten a little more complicated to sort ever since Jack had started asking them if he could throw his clothes in with theirs. His dryer had decided to give out on him so naturally the Egos were willing to do their creator a favor and share the load in a literal sense. Every so often a piece of his clothing would cease to exist and then reappear with the others when it was time to return Jack’s clothes to him. How did that even happen? None of the others had any explanations for him!

Despite how exhausted he was, however, he wasn’t going to give up until he found his friggin’ hoodie. He wasn’t about to sleep in this jumpsuit. To his further exasperation, however, he had no one to help him. It was late by Marvin, Chase, and Jameson’s standards; they had gone to bed long ago, but apparently Henrik had decided to go to bed with them. That was pretty inconvenient.

After about twenty minutes of searching the laundry room, the living room and the kitchen, he hissed through his teeth, trudging irritably toward the hallway. He didn’t want to go rifling through the others’ bedrooms and risk waking them up, but maybe his hoodie had gotten mixed into their piles of clothes and would be easily accessible.

To Jackieboy’s credit, he managed to keep his hold on the handle tight enough that Marvin’s door didn’t creak too loudly, though he did have to dodge a few sparks that twirled over his head as the magician twitched in his sleep. Fortunately his unconscious spells provided enough light for Jackie to see as he rifled through the nearest drawers.

When he found nothing, he swore in a whisper, drawing a faint noise from the other Ego as he twisted onto his side. Jackie tsked softly in pity as he watched Marvin’s mask bend awkwardly at the angle; hopefully there wouldn’t be  _too_  many creases for him to smooth out of it tomorrow.

Easing Marvin’s top drawer shut, he backed soundlessly out of the room and closed the door with a second grumbled curse, glancing toward Henrik’s door a few yards away. He really didn’t want to go in there; he was almost entirely certain that he would make a mistake and disturb him. He got the least sleep out of all of them. Was it worth the risk if his hoodie was in there?

He would just open the door and look around, he decided reluctantly. Opening drawers and searching through them would  _definitely_  wake him up.

The door’s creak was agonizingly loud as Jackieboy held his breath, poking his head through the gap with narrowed eyes. As soon as he did, however, his eyes opened wide out of sheer bewilderment and surprise at what he saw. The first thing he noticed was the fact that Sam was planted on the left side of the mattress, his tail curled loosely around him.

There was more than that, Jackie realized in amazement as his eyes adjusted. The second thing he saw, illuminated by Sam’s natural green glow, was that Henrik was lying on top of his sheets, surrounded by a pile of laundry. His interest too strong now, Jackieboy nudged the door open just enough that he could slip inside and get a better look at the strange scene.

Marvin’s cape was covering him mid-waist to hips, though most of the satiny fabric had slipped off, hanging precariously over the side of the bed. Bunched up under Henrik’s hand was the collar of Chase’s shirt and he could see the vibrant blue of Jameson’s vest peeking out from under that. Jack’s infamous pair of flamingo shorts was tucked close to the doctor’s knees. Most prominently, Jackie found that the younger Ego’s usual pajama shirt had been abandoned, tossed to the floor; he was currently nestled into the comfortable folds of a familiar red hoodie.

The longer Jackie stared at him, the less he remembered his frustration. Indescribable warmth was welling in his chest, sweeping all of his stress away and leaving nothing but affection behind. A soft laugh escaped him as he moved closer and perched on the edge of the bed. To his disbelief, the shift in weight didn’t wake his friend entirely; he only curled in on himself, allowing a few more inches of Marvin’s cape to escape him. Jackieboy automatically moved to catch it, returning it to its previous placement, and then squinted faintly as the nearby glow brightened.

“Hey there, Sammy,” he whispered as the mascot peeked sleepily up at him. “I’m guessing Henrik brought you in here because he wanted  _all_  of us with him.” Sam merely responded by nestling in more comfortably and dimming himself; he clearly didn’t have any intention of leaving.

Come to think of it, now that he was here, Jackie didn’t feel particularly inclined to go either. The thought of sleeping without his hoodie didn’t appeal to him any more now than it had before. If he stayed, he could at least have it with him—and if the household’s lightest sleeper  _still_  hadn’t stirred by now, maybe he had the right idea keeping the others’ clothing with him too.

Carefully lifting the edge of Marvin’s cape, Jackie easily slid his legs under it, hunkering down slowly until he could relax onto his side, and then he made the mistake of exhaling too heavily. His breath hit the back of Henrik’s neck, and Jackie was forced to freeze as the younger Ego shifted, tightening his grip on Chase’s shirt collar and mumbling something unintelligible. Regret and muted panic pulsing through him, Jackie thought fast, hurriedly sliding an arm over his side to keep him where he was.

As he’d hoped, Henrik stilled at the added weight, settling back down into whatever dream he’d been chasing. His breathing fell deep and soft and Jackie bit back another sigh of relief and delight as gentle snores started. Those were rare, even appreciated—reserved for the few and far between times when he was genuinely sleeping at peace. No fear, no agitation, no restlessness…Just peace.

Jackieboy smiled softly, tucked his face into the side of the pillow and closed his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> I just...I adore platonic snuggles. These boys need them. I don't make the rules.


End file.
